


time doesn't want to happen; we make it happen

by mamawerewolf



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Implied Relationships, Kidnapping, Minor Relationships, Multi, time loops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 17:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamawerewolf/pseuds/mamawerewolf
Summary: Lisa Snart gets kidnapped. Rip Hunter brings the Legends together. Mick Rory is tired.





	time doesn't want to happen; we make it happen

**Author's Note:**

> hey yall this might stay as a one shot but it might get expanded? who knows

Rip Hunter was tired of being hunted. The bounty hunter known as Chronos had nearly blown him out of the time stream more than once and was hot on his heels for what felt like months. It was never ending, always jumping in and out of the time stream, praying he didn’t run into himself by accident or cause damage to the engines or—god forbid—get stranded in some backwater in the 2050s. Ugh. And then, suddenly, Rip looked back and he wasn’t there.

How strange.

“Gideon?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Where is our tagalong?”

“It seems he has changed course, so to speak. He’s currently moving back through the time stream.”

If only he could have a break. If only.

Sighing, Rip ordered his autopilot to tail him. “That is, if you are able to track that frequency you claim you imbedded into his ship’s operating system while I was getting my arse kicked in 1924.”

“Sir, if you are going to question my ability to track Chronos’ ship, might you do it another time? Say, when you actually manage to shake him without my help steering?” Despite her tone, Gideon obeyed swiftly, and they shot after him.

They landed in the United States of America, early January of 2016. Rip took one of the ear pieces that allowed him to remain in contact with his AI. With her guidance, he navigated the terrain and found Chronos’ ship. The cloaking equipment used to be state of the art, but after relentlessly following Rip’s ship, it seemed the bounty hunter hadn’t had time to report home for repairs. Gideon broke into the frequency easily.

“Any life-signs?”

“Negative, Captain. It seems our friend is shore-side.”

“Well,” Rip said, “this seems like an opportunity we should—“

“Captain! Motion behind you!”

A laser blasted right past his head and collided with the side of the ship he stood by. Whirling around, Rip saw Chronos. His armor was dull from overuse, but his weapons gleamed. Clearly, he had his priorities. Over his shoulder was the limp form of a woman.

“Gideon, are you getting that?” He shouted, diving for cover. His pistol was trapped in his pocket; he struggled to get it out to return fire.

“Yes, sir. Two life-signs. Based on the heat-signature, I’d say she’s mostly alive.”

“Anything else?” The ground next to him exploded. Rip swore, running to a new cover, dodging blasts that went wide. The weight of body must have been affecting Chronos’ aim.

“Yes. My visual scans have come back with a possible identification. Would you like to—“

“Not _now_ , Gideon!”

“Only trying to be helpful, sir.”

Ignoring her put-out tone, Rip tried to hit Chronos without harming his captive, but Chronos’ shielding on his suit was unfortunately still intact. Every shot either dissolved on impact or bounced off and shot up dirt. Chronos had him in a corner; the Waverider was over a mile away, and Chronos had superior gear and training that made escape on foot an unattractive option.

The woman groaned and shifted. Chronos stared (or at least, Rip thought he did—kind of hard to tell with the mask) Rip down before turning back to his ship.

“Gideon what are the chances—“

“Sir, I must request you do not attempt to damage his ship from this distance. You are far more likely to change his mind.”

Rip huffed. “How did you even know that’s what I was going to ask?”

Laughing, Gideon replied, “I know you, sir. A far better option would to be stay in this time, recover. The hostage should be fine. In fact, I think you’ll be very interested in knowing her identity. Come back to the ship. We should get started.”

“Started on what?”

“Recruitment for Team Legends, sir.”

 

Len was in a state. Mick watched him destroy tools and chairs and knick-knacks alike. He sat for a moment, let himself revel in the change of pace.

“Cool it, Snart,” he said after a bit. When Snart only snarled at him in response, he added, “I don’t think breaking my shit is going to get you your sister back.”

Slamming his hands on the table, Snart gritted out, “I don’t have to listen to a badly behaved pyro who can’t finish a job unless someone with half a brain cell is holding the leash.”

Normally, that would’ve caused a massive fight. However, he let it slide. “Hey. Hey.” He kept repeating that, moving slowly over to where Len was breathing heavily, supporting himself against the table. He pressed his hand to the small of Len’s back. The other came up to cup Len’s face, forcing him to make eye contact. “She’ll be fine. You’ll get her back.”

“ _We_ will.” It wasn’t a question. Snart straightened up, staring at Mick. His face said hardened criminal, but his eyes said scared kid.

Mick sighed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to say no, especially after what happened with Snart Sr. By way of answering, he brought his head down and let it rest against Len’s. A rare moment of tenderness. They were terrible at it, most of the time. Now was just the time to bullshit it until Len got a grip on himself.

“Ramon give any specifics?”

Apparently, Cisco Ramon had upgraded from techie kid to metahuman techie kid. He had gotten a vision, he claimed, of a man in a robotic suit fighting with the meta known as Firestorm. Not two hours later, he got another one of that same dude fighting Lisa. Ramon called Snart, who rushed over to her place, where he found it trashed and covered in weird burns and gold.

“Cisco said that ‘Firestorm’ or whatever is willing to help find Lisa.”

Mick frowned. “Snart, are you sure that’s a good plan? Last I checked, we don’t run with heroes. They don’t have the guts to do what we need to get done.”

Len didn’t answer. “He also said that he has a friend who specializes in the field of robotic suits. I promised to play nice if he put in a good word for me.”

“Snart—“

“What, Mick.” Snart was a caged animal, full of rage and terror. Mick hated handling anything with kid-gloves.

“I just want to make sure you don’t put your chips in with a bunch of nobodies because your sister’s missing.”

“Kidnapped.”

“Whatever.”

Looking at his cold gun, Len said, “I will do whatever it takes to get my sister back.”

And at that point Mick knew there was no talking him out of it. Damn, if he’d known how much of a pain in the ass he’d be, he’d have thought twice before saving his ass in juvie. Putting his chips in indeed.

The next day, they made the trek up to Star City to meet up with Ramon’s friend.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Raymond Palmer. You can call me Ray, or Dr. Palmer if you like.” The man was as tall as Mick, with a pretty face and shiny black hair. Len gingerly shook Palmer’s hand. Mick merely glared. “Cisco mentioned that you require a specialist.”

“Yes. My baby sister was kidnapped by someone in a metal suit. You build metal suits. I was hoping you could give me some insight.” Len didn’t like pleasantries on the best of days.

Palmer’s sunny expression diminished ever so slightly. He led them to his workshop, chattering all the while about prototypes and manufacturers and old competitors. Mick tuned him out.

Len seemed to follow along, but he wasn’t impressed. “Did Cisco give you any specifics that he didn’t give me?”

“No, but he did tell me you collected samples from the blasts. If I analyze them, I might be able to narrow down the type of weapons we’re dealing with here.”

While Dr. Delightful ran tests, Len examined the bits of robot laying around, tapping and huffing with impatience. Mindful of their location, Mick sidled over and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“What’s your take on haircut?” He murmured, appreciating the way Len shivered at his low voice, even now as his world crumbled.

“As smart as Cisco says and about as annoying as Cisco is.”

“Think he could be an asset?”

Len shook his head. “Too caught up in his little world to be much use outside of… consultations.”

Tutting, Mick grabbed what he thought was a shoulder pad of some kind. “I still think Ramon could’ve done this for us back home.”

“Uh, guys?” Palmer walked over. It didn’t look good; Palmer’s expression didn’t read “I know who took your sister!” or even “I have the slightest inkling as to who made the suit”. Mick had to remind himself of why he was even wasting his time with this guy. “I think I figured out what kind of weapons your guy’s using, but other than that, I’m kind of at a loss. We should call Cisco to so I can bounce some ideas off him.”

Ramon picked up on the first ring. “ _Ray, did you figure out who took Lisa?_ ”

“No,” Len butted in before Ray could start off on his discoveries. “He has nothing.”

“Not-Not nothing, Mr. Snart. Umm, Cisco you gotta see these readings. Hold on, I’m sending them your way.”

_Dee-de-dee._ “ _Holy shit, Ray. This is—_ “

“Insane, I know. Impossible, even.”

Mick decided he didn’t care enough. “I’m gonna go make a few calls,” he murmured to Len, who nodded tightly. When he came back, Len was massaging his temples, lips pursed.

“You geniuses are telling me that this suit is from the _future_.”

Ray nodded helplessly. “The material used to make the blast is highly volatile; any technology to contain it, let alone manipulate it into any sort of weapon with that kind of blast radius, is barely being theorized about now.”

“Hold on,” Mick said. The other two turned to him. “Your suit can fly, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—“

“And it shoots lasers last time I checked. I might be on a limb here, but if you can make shit like that, who’s to say someone hasn’t mastered whatever brilliant tech shit you’re only dreaming about?”

“ _While you make an excellent point, Heatwave,_ ” Cisco chirped in from the speakerphone, “ _Ray is right. The tech behind the Atom suit and whatever tech the kidnapper used is in totally different leagues. Comparing the two is like comparing a torch to your heat gun._ ”

Finally, someone speaking in a language he understands.

“ _And besides, it’s not like we don’t know that time travel is possible, let alone probable._ ”

Ray stopped and looked at the phone in confusion.

Len, finally beginning to look like himself, purred, “We don’t?”

 

Sara liked to think she was a hard person to catch off guard. Years as an assassin and a short but eventful stunt as a vigilante produced a pretty paranoid woman. However, the light that incapacitated her wasn’t something anyone in her time could have trained for.

“Ms. Lance?”

She woke up slowly. Her head was pounding, and her eyes burned. “What—? Where—?” Blinking to clear her vision, she saw the outline of a man. She made to attack him, but he put his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. “Who the hell are you?”

“Someone interested in making you a deal.” The outline became more defined. He was white, about her age, with a truly tragic mustache. Clad in a long brown coat, he looked rather out of place in—

Where was she?

“You didn’t answer my question,” she spat, sitting up and looking around. They were outside. She sat on the grassy ground, and he stood a ways away. Clearly, he knew what she was capable of.

He would know a lot more intimately if he didn’t start giving her answers.

“My name is Rip Hunter. I’m a time traveler.”

“Time travel.”

“Yes.”

She stared at him. He shifted, shoving his hands in his pockets, breaking her gaze after a moment.

“I can prove it, but I have something to tell you that will be much more interesting.”

Rip held out his hand. He had no callouses. Probably wasn’t trained in hand to hand, either, based on his open stance. Sara didn’t see any obvious weapons, aside from the sidearm at his hip. A revolver. She could take this guy in half a second and be on her way.

She took his hand and let herself be heaved to her feet.

“What is it that you had to kidnap me to tell me?”

Rip sighed, grim. “I’m afraid that it’s someone you won’t take well.”

A short summation later, Sara was reconsidering whether or not she was going to hand this guy’s ass to him.

“My sister’s gonna die and you want me to leave with you and go up against some asshole who conquers the world in a century and a half?”

“Yes.”

“And your grand ol’ plan is to put together a patchwork team of mostly strangers and hopefully not die?”

A sigh. “Yes.”

“And my pittance is going to be your gracious assistance with saving my sister’s life? No thank you, asshat. I’ll take my chances on my own.” She turned to walk off.

“Not just saving her life. Saving her life would be impossible without the help of a Time Master to help you with a couple of time loops here and there.”

She turned back and glared. “And how exactly will that help?”

Sighing again, Rip crossed his arms. “Will you at least help me round up the others so I can give the explanation all at once instead of having to do this individually?”

So, Sara (against her better judgement) followed this random stranger onto his admittedly impressive timeship.

“Sir, you were successful in bringing Ms. Lance onboard.” The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. “Welcome to the crew.”

Rip took off his jacket and threw it over a chair. There were 9, including the one in front. She supposed that was the Captain’s chair. “Don’t mind Gideon, Ms. Lance. She tends to get a bit full of herself if she’s left to her own devices too long.”

“I live to serve, Captain Hunter.”

Sara was surprised that she liked this voice. “Is this one of your crew, _Captain_?”

Rather than letting her boss answer, Gideon cleared her throat and introduced herself. “I am Gideon, the autopilot of the Waverider. As an AI, I am present in every section of this ship. My sensors extend to 100 kilometers from the exterior of the ship when on planet. Should you have need of me, Ms. Lance, there is technology available to allow us to keep in contact when you are off-ship.”

“Pleased to meet you, Gideon. And please, call me Sara.” She winked at what could only be a camera in the wall.

Rip huffed. He seemed to do a lot of that. “Now that you two are properly acquainted, would you like to pull up the briefing files for our other hopefuls, Gideon?”

“Right away sir.”

 

Firestorm was late.

Len paced. Mick watched. They seemed to do a lot of that.

“I’m sure there was just a, ah, a delay at the airport.” Mick toyed with his heat gun. While Len was definitely more expressive of his impatience, Mick too was getting tired of waiting. “These guys of Ramon’s sure are turning out dandy.”

Len didn’t say anything. Mick sighed.

“Snart, come here.”

Len continued to pace.

“Len—“

A burst of fire caught the corner of his vision. A young black man in a yellow and red suit landed, fire curling beautifully from his head and hands. His figure blurred and separated. The young black man was now in a hoodie and jeans, and the second figure was taller and much older.

“Sorry we’re late,” the old man said, shooting a look at his companion. “We got a tad bit lost.”

“Yeah, because you kept giving me shit directions.”

Mick cared even less about their relationship problems than he did about the science bullshit Palmer was going on about. Len didn’t give an indication one way or another; he was in business mode, which was much safer than blind fear and rage.

The young man stopped scowling at his companion. “Cisco said that robot dude we fought took your sister.”

“He did. What can you tell me about him?”

Mostly about how he fought, it turned out. “It was like he knew about our powers. He knew what we could and couldn’t do. He dodged most of the blasts I shot. Grey here can probably tell you better about his suit and shit though.”

“Grey” affirmed what the young man said. He had a rifle-ish sidearm that shot green lasers that dissolved what it hit on impact.

“That doesn’t match up with what Palmer told us.” Len narrowed his eyes. “The blasts from Lisa’s apartment were mostly scorch marks. There weren’t any holes.”

“Well, clearly he has more than one weapon his arsenal.” The old man was miffed for some reason, but all Mick cared about was what the young guy had to say.

“It didn’t make sense. He interrupted us fighting a meta, shot at us a bit, and then disappeared. It was… It was like he was riling us up. Like he wanted to be seen.”

Which was very, very interesting.

After the meet-up with Firestorm was over and they were back in the house they broke, Mick broached it with Len.

“You think this is a trap.”

“It doesn’t sit, Len. Why would someone go to all that trouble to kidnap Lisa? This guy has a longer agenda. And I don’t know why or how, but you’re right at the center of whatever he wants.”

Len shrugged. “Let him want. Let him plan. I will kill him for laying his hands on my family.”

“Len—“

“Don’t push me on this, Rory.”

Goddammit, Snart. Just because he was the brains of the operation didn’t mean that nothing Mick had to say mattered. This wasn’t the first time Mick’s words had been disregarded. It might just have been the time with the most at stake.

Time to pull out the big guns.

“Lenny, baby.”

Len froze. “What.”

Mick sighed (and damn if he wasn’t doing that a lot now) and came up behind Len. “You know that I care about Lisa. She’s my family. But you are my partner. I’m trying to look out for us. Please, let me.” He pressed up against Len’s back, encircling Len’s waist with his arms and letting his cheek rest against Len’s head. Slowly, Len relaxed, letting himself be cared for, even for a minute. They stayed like that, just holding and breathing, letting the terror and the anger fade into the background.

Finally, Len said, “You know I have to do this, Mick.” It was the softest he’d spoken since Lisa was taken. His voice trembled. If Mick could see his face, he was sure it’d be broken and afraid.

“I know. Just promise me that you don’t let this blind you. I’m supposed to be the one who’s out of control, remember? You gotta be sure you can think this through.”

Len turned in Mick’s arms. His eyes were full of tears. “Please tell me we can get her back. I can’t—I can’t—“

Mick kissed him, cradling his face and thumbing away the tears as they fell. “We’re going to find her. And we’re gonna rain hell down on whoever dared to hurt her.”

Damn Snart and Damn Mick for being so damn in love with him.

 

Kendra came home to find her—to find Carter threatening a man in a trench coat. That would’ve been unthinkable two months ago. Her life was insane.

“Ah, good, you’re here.” The man in the trench coat said, not at all concerned with his current vulnerability. “I was hoping I’d only have to say this once; I have the distinct unpleasant feeling that I’ll be repeating myself a lot in the next few hours.”

“Carter, what’s going on?”

Carter glared at the intruder. “I was just about to find that out.”

“You’re going to want to ease up, there.” A voice from behind them said. Kendra whirled around; a blonde woman in a white leather outfit was leaning against the doorframe. She wiggled her fingers at them. “I bite.”

“Ah, Ms. Lance, that won’t be necessary. So long as Mr. Hall promises to at least let me speak before he throws me out a window, we should be all set here.”

Carter begrudgingly calmed down and put down the kitchen knife. (And really, was he about to take the stranger on with a kitchen knife? Honestly.)

The man introduced himself as Rip Hunter and his companion as Sara Lance. “We have information on Vandal Savage that the pair of you might be interested in. I’d much rather tell you on my ship, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Kendra and Carter looked at each other. Kendra couldn’t believe this. She thought they were free of his madness. Carter seemed solemn, resigned.

“Could I have a word with Carter first?”

Hunter nodded, and Lance followed him out. As soon as the door closed, Kendra let her fear show. Carter opened his arms and she ran into them. They squeezed each other tightly.

“I thought it was over.”

“So did I.” Carter ran a hand over her hair. “But it isn’t. I was foolish to think that it would be so easy.”

Outraged, Kendra pulled back. “ _Easy_? You call that very narrow victory _easy_?”

“I call it what it is. Progress. And if this man is who he says he is, we could actually stand a chance.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then he can find another version of us and try again. Or we can just write it off as a good try. You and I have no chance of hiding from Savage. We can never be free in this life while he draws breath.”

Kendra allowed herself one moment of crushing overwhelming despair. Then, she pushed it back and down. “We’ll try. But if we think it’s not going to work, we leave.”

Carter agreed. Together, they went to inform Hunter of their decision.

He was gone. The woman, Lance, was still there, popping bubblegum.

“He went to, ah, bring the car around.” She was very pleased with herself, and damned if Kendra didn’t find her attractive, all confidence and apathy and long legs. “Follow me.”

Instead of going downstairs, she led them up to the attic. It was dark and windy, but as clear as it got in the city. Lance walked towards the edge of the roof and stopped.

“Lance, where is--?”

“Shh, Mr. Hall. Patience is a very attractive virtue.” Lance quirked her brow at Kendra. “Ain’t that right, Kendra?”

Kendra shifted, aware of Carter’s eyes on her. “It could be, yes.”

Lance laughed, low and easy, but it felt fake. Kendra didn’t trust her, but then, she barely trusted Carter. She missed trusting. It was nice.

After a beat, Lance said, “We’re all set, Gideon,” and before either of them could question her, a door lowered out of nothingness, the light spilling out onto the roof. Hunter popped his head out of the opening. “About time, Captain.”

Ignoring Lance’s comment, he ushered them aboard. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to verify the location of the rest of our potentials. Ms. Lance, if you would be so kind as to show Mr. Hall and Ms. Saunders around.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an order. Lance acquiesced, taking them through the hallways and into what seemed to be the main room.

“Where are we?” Kendra wondered aloud.

“You are aboard the Waverider, Ms. Saunders.”

Kendra yelped. Carter startled as well, looking around for the source of the voice.

“Hall, Kendra, this is Gideon. She’s an AI that helps us not get lost in the vastness of space and time.”

“Pleasure,” Kendra said faintly. This was not at all how she thought this day would go.

 

In order to cross reference information between the people who actually knew something about what they were talking about, Stein and Jackson, as they were known, agreed to come meet Palmer in his workshop. Stein seemed pretty impressed with the suit, but Jackson seemed to be more interested in the parts themselves.

“When you boys are finished fangirling, we actually had a purpose to this meeting.”

Len seemed confident. Mick’s little pep talk seemed to have done the trick, which meant he could relinquish control to his partner and tune out the science bits.

Unfortunately, they didn’t get very far.

“Well, this is quite the little meet-up.” A man with a mustache and a stupid looking coat led a group of people into the work-shop.

Ray was alarmed. “How did you people get in here? My security should have—“

“They are unharmed, Dr. Palmer. Rest assured, we mean you no harm.”

Mick let Len worry about Mustache. He took in the others. A blonde woman in a jumpsuit, a black woman in a cardigan, and a forgettable white dude in a Henley. Who were these nobodies? And what the hell did they want with Haircut?

“We actually have a proposition for you.” Mick was surprised to find that Mustache was addressing him as well. He and Len shared a glance. “We know who took Lisa Snart.”

That certainly got everyone’s attention. “We do?” The black woman muttered to her man-friend. He just shrugged at her.

“And you want something in return for her safe return.” Len looked like he was a half second away from freezing these guys and Mick was inclined to assist with their untimely deaths.

“No, actually, we don’t _know_ him. He’s actually a common enemy. He was tracking my ship when he suddenly changed course and came here. Last I saw your sister, she was alive. I have no idea why he took her, but I might be able to work out the where... And the when.”

“I’m not following,” Mick said, “but I might be just stupid. Professor? Palmer? Care to shed some light?”

However, Len responded first. “More fucking time travel. Why am I not surprised.”

Mustache seemed taken aback. Palmer explained in his own fantastically incomprehensible way about the materials and the blasts and yadda yadda. The professor was about to vibrate out of his skin with excitement. Mick? Mick was just tired. Tired of all this fucking around instead of getting what needed to be done, done.

“Whatever it is that you want, we’re in.”

Len looked at him sharply. Mick shrugged and looked back. Len rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, what he said.”

And that really took the wind out of Mustache’s sails. He huffed. “Well, I still have to convince everyone else, so pardon me if I continue my pitch.”

While Mustache (Rip Hunter) went on and on about glory and being a legend and some guy’s ploy for future-world domination, Mick watched the others. He needed to know who would be a liability to the plan to get Lisa back. Len was doing the same, probably in further depth than Mick ever could. Lance, the blonde, clearly had some other investment here. Kendra and Carter, the awkward lovers, were already onboard, and for good reason, Mick gave them that. Professor Stein was like a kid on Halloween, ecstatic at the prospect of all the learning he could do out risking his ass for strangers. Palmer expressed interested in being a legend, which is whatever. Might be a problem, if it got out of hand.

Jackson would be the toughest case. He wanted nothing to do with the mission or the adventure or any of it, but they could definitely use some firepower, and Firestorm didn’t happen if only one half was there.

Len wandered over to him.

“The kid?”

“Yep.”

“We’ll figure him out. Just gotta get him on board.”

“Got something in mind, Snart?”

“A thing or two.”

The messiest job they’d ever dreamt up. Funny how it happened that way.

“Give me the word and I’ll have it done.”

 

 

Lisa came into consciousness rather violently. Breathing heavily, she tried to pull her hands down and found them handcuffed to the railing above her head. Pulling her legs into her chest, she took in her surroundings.

It was compact and looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. There were large screens that appeared to be turned off and panels with lots of buttons and sliders and nobs. She looked behind her. There was a short hallway that turned left, but she couldn’t see much else.

“What the hell?” She tried at her cuffs again. No luck. One second she’d been at home, eating dinner, and the next she’d been attacked by some guy in a metal suit.

Oh, man. Her gold gun. If it got damage, she’d have to tell Cisco she got kidnapped, and then he’d do that thing where he cares a lot and she feels like shit because she takes advantage with no intention of giving into her own feelings. Just fucking perfect.

“You’re awake.”

She whipped around.

“ _Mick?_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me about stable time loops at jedifinnrey.tumblr.com


End file.
